There is a song by an artist named Gabe Dixon that quickly became one of my favorites after just the first hearing.  I first heard it on an advertisement for a new Law & Order series – Conviction.  The series was a failure, but the song surely isn’t.  You can have a listen here:  All Will Be Well

After spending a day cleaning carpets in our newly leased church building, and rushing to soccer practice, I found my mind willing to cooperate this morning, but not my body.  Yet I pushed through, forcing my body to wake with the delight of a warm shower.

Ready to encounter God, I made my way to my office, only to hear the cries of a discontent baby, whose mother was enjoying a shower of her very own.  So I sat and happily held my son, lovingly, tenderly, and patiently like only a good dad could do…  well… not exactly.

I did hold my son, and enjoy every opportunity to do so.  But I did it with grumbling and complaining in my heart.  “Why does this have to happen right as I’m about to start my devotional time?”.  “Couldn’t this have happened just a little while later?”.

Let me be clear on this: my son is not an inconvenience.  But I’m convinced if I had woken an hour earlier to spend this time pursuing God and being pursued, that some other distraction equally as powerful would have manifest itself.  Isn’t that how it works?

This morning I contemplate the goodness of God:

All of the strength that may come through prayer comes from the goodness of God, for he is the goodness of everything.

For the highest form of prayer is to the goodness of God.  It comes down to us to meet our humblest needs.  It gives life to our souls and makes them live and grow in grace and virtue.  It is near in nature and swift in grace, for it is the same grace which our souls seek and always will. [1]

Every good and perfect gift comes from God.  Deeper still, only God can give things which are truly good.  I think of all the good things that I try to do and realize that they ultimately lack and are of little worth, unless they are full of God’s goodness.  Remembering that we are incapable of giving what we do not have, I press in and ask God to fill me with his goodness.

This world – this wonderful creation which we have been given dominion over, is desperately in need of God’s goodness.  If that is what nurtures life, then may I spend every breath in pursuit.

In the midst of his goodness, I am assured and reassured that all will be well.  Or as Julian penned, “All shall be well and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”

[1] Julian of Norwich (edited by Richard J. Foster and James Bryan Smith),Devotional Classics (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2005), 77

p.s. if you have found your way into this post via Facebook, you can journey to my blog:


There is so much more to God than I can fathom.  This morning, as I sit here in his presence, I find myself asking how the more is achieved, or is it achieved at all?  Must one simply work harder – even give more time, to find a satisfying relationship emerge?  I find myself at conflict as I process what it means to surrender more to God – to have him direct even my very thoughts.

It almost seems to contradict the need to simplify.  Spending more time intentionally pursuing God does not necessarily seem to be a simple thing.  And yet I’m convinced that’s exactly what it is supposed to be.

… it seems to me now that the very Bible cannot be read as a substitute for meeting with God soul to soul and face to face [1].  I have often found that in my times of quiet and contemplation I attempt to read or do – something, anything that will help me feel that I am hearing God’s voice.  When I am not doing, the chaos of my thoughts creeps in and then this one – that one – yet another, all bombard me and I go chasing, try to make sense of it all.

But it turns out that this time I’ve set aside is not meant to reconcile all of my wandering thoughts.  Rather than ignore them, though, I find it more effective to intentionally give each thought to God.  It brings the focus back to him.

I grasp to this thought by Frank Laubach the strongest: “Any hour of any day may be made perfect by merely choosing.  It is perfect if one looks to God that entire hour, waiting for his leadership all through the hour and trying hard to do every tiny thing exactly as God wishes it done.” [2]

That is what I want to do – to seek God without ceasing.  That these times alone, in the quiet, with God, would not be “my time with God for today”, but would be springboards into a day full of God.

[1] Frank Laubach (edited by Richard J. Foster and James Bryan Smith),Devotional Classics (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2005), 104
[2] Ibid, 104